


Finality

by Skullszeyes



Category: Villains Series - V. E. Schwab
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Flash Fic, Fluff, Friends to Enemies, Friendship, Gen, Light Angst, Love/Hate, Mild Blood, My First Work in This Fandom, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 07:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20524022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skullszeyes/pseuds/Skullszeyes
Summary: Victor muses over a scar on his wrist, and of Eli Ever.





	Finality

**Author's Note:**

> So, Vicious is one of my favorite books, and I love Victor and Dom! (I dislike Vengeful, and I feel strongly that Vicious should've been one book & not a continuation.)  
Anyway, I wasn't sure what I wanted to write for Victor, so I just decided to write something simple. It has hints of their friendship, and possibly something more, but who knows. Lol.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Comments and/or Kudo's are appreciative.

Victor stared absently at the mark on his wrist. It was puckered and red, and Victor had pushed the pain away while pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He sent Mitch out with Sydney, while Dom lingered in the shadows close by. He wanted to be alone, but he didn’t say it outright. They should know him enough that they’d understand the cues. He was getting the feeling they didn’t, and maybe they would never know him.

Victor took a sip of the whiskey and set it down, frowning at the mark. The only one who would ever know him was Eli Ever. 

His best friend. 

Former.

A friend who made himself an enemy when he cut loyalty as easily as one would slice through butter with a heated knife. 

There was always that steady calculation with the way Eli worked around their friendship. A mask he’d slip on, and one that would become crooked during moments that only Victor would notice. 

It was interesting, more so than Victor’s distaste for Angie at the time, and the way Eli would fall into her, their mouths pressed together, while Victor tried to read his books, or write his notes for class. 

He wouldn’t admit it, and truthfully, he could barely admit it to himself whenever he thought about it.

He wanted to possess Eli. 

The temptation of it was aggravating as if he were clutching ice in his hands and waiting for it to melt. The seconds would slow, and the pain would escalate, but the elation of water dripping between his fingers would find its way into the crevices of Victor’s irritation.

It felt more like a cruel, uncaring, fate. 

Something Victor could rarely think about, but inevitably found himself pondering when he was alone, sitting in front of a fireplace, brooding over past mistakes, and torn friendships. 

He never did understand why he thought Eli’s friendship mattered to him. Maybe it didn’t, maybe one day he’d forget about it like he’d forget about Angie, and everyone else. No one reminded Victor of happier days, and he thought maybe Eli’s presence would have that effect.

Except it didn’t. 

Eli was a scar, a reminder, a permanent facet of what happened between them, and what Victor was now thinking about in all of his irritated musings. 

Maybe it was more ornate than that, or something more shallow. 

Victor sighed irritably, picking up his glass, and noticing the pain when he let it back in. Only a small part of what he needed to notice as he glanced down at it. A pinprick, an annoyance, a reminder, a constant fucking reminder. 

And Victor didn’t mind it in the least. He even smiled softly in the dim room, picking up his whiskey and taking a sip. 

It was the possession that held him together, that cut into him, and made him realize his own cause of why he found himself late in the afternoon, drinking whiskey, with a fresh cut he didn’t want to clean or bandage. 

He wanted it open, to breathe, to feel, to ache. 

Eli wasn’t the same, he would’ve made sure it was covered up in gauze before hiding it under sleeves until it healed, and then he would make sure no one ever noticed it.

Even now, the mark on Eli that Victor had carved into him had healed, and he has done it over and over again, watching the skin stitch itself together, cleaning up any marks, but there was one thing that Victor was satisfied with.

Eli’s screams. 

Those were the type of scars Victor was able to set into Eli, even if he had fun with the blade. And when it was time for everything to come to a fruitful end, Victor had barely stopped Eli when the blade was set against Victor’s skin, and he had goaded him into doing it. 

“For,” Victor panted, smiling up at Eli’s scowl.

The temptation was like two dogs growling and snapping at one another before they drew fangs into rough matte fur, digging and digging into flesh. Not one bothering to fall, it was all instinct burned into them that either brought them to their knees, or raised them to their feet.

Instinct. Victor couldn’t ignore it even if he wanted too, not like he ever did. 

The rough edges of who he is inside matched Eli’s sense of cruel justice and twisted nature. Why wouldn’t they be able to match up together? Why out of everyone, they were led to each other, to fall and rise in waves, before becoming what they are now?

Two individual pieces on a board, able to master one another, to know each other, to understand, and cultivate the pain and pride that came with knowing the other in a sense of friendship, while the finality is exactly where they intended to be. 

Eli carved into Victor’s skin, he smirked and said, “Ever.”

It was exactly where they were meant to be, and because of that, Victor didn’t mind where the scar ended up being, at least it was there for the both of them to know. 


End file.
